


these, our bodies (possessed by light)

by AvaRosier



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6589531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier/pseuds/AvaRosier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy ends up, by chance, sharing an apartment in New Orleans at the same time as Steve and Bucky. But maybe a chance is all they need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these, our bodies (possessed by light)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twistedingenue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedingenue/gifts).



 

"Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.  
These, our bodies, possessed by light.  
Tell me we’ll never get used to it."

 

Richard Siken, _Scheherazade_

 

* * *

 

 

 

It's huge, so much bigger than she had imagined.

 

It's not just the bread itself, Darcy muses as the cashier finishes wrapping the sandwich for her, it's the whole shebang: the layers of salami and ham, the respectable amount of cheese, and the olive salad. God, the olive salad. Just the thought is enough to send her into little paroxysms of joy. A love of olives was something she shared with her dad- her mom couldn't stand the taste of brine. Which is, of course, the reason she buys a jar of the olive salad mix just so she can add more to her sandwich.

 

“Victory is mine!” Darcy sings, doing a little skip as she escapes the fairly packed Central Grocery with her loot weighing her left arm down. It's barely 10:30 in the morning and already it looks like today's gonna be a hot one. The heat slams into her and she groans at the thought of walking around in that this afternoon. It's not so bad right now, which Darcy is grateful for as she begins the trek back to the apartment.

 

Ah, yes. The Apartment.

 

You see, this little vacation was Darcy's treat to herself, her reward for finishing that Master's degree that had been started at Cambridge and completed at Columbia. She's not naive enough to think that this makes the world her oyster. It doesn't, but at least she doesn't need to start the soul-sucking process of job searching because she'd been working for Stark Industries as a part of the Avengers' PR team.

 

Turns out all those years of arguing with people on Tumblr qualified as a marketable skill, go figure.

 

She loves her job, why wouldn't she? She's got a good paycheck, great benefits, 24/7 access to coffee, and practically has the information highway jacked into her brain. She gets to spend time with Jane (getting access to Jane's lab had been a bitch but Darcy had successfully been able to argue precedent), she's made some casual friends in the PR department, and Thor makes sure to come visit her whenever he's planet-side.

 

Darcy still isn't sure how her vacation plans made their way to Pepper Potts' ear. But they had and the next thing she'd known, the CEO of Stark Industries was offering her use of an apartment in the city for free. Which...OMG! But Darcy had spent way too many years as a poor college student to turn down the rich-person equivalent of free food. She could only hope she'd seemed totally nonchalant when she accepted the offer.

 

But. She's here in New Orleans with three weeks to blow, which means she can use the money she'd been saving up for the hotel rooms on food and fun instead. That had been why she'd chosen the place, after all: to eat, drink, and eat even more. Maybe get laid. Her vagina was beginning to gather cobwebs.

 

She's two blocks away when the call comes.

 

Fishing her phone out of her bag she swipes at the screen, punches in her passcode and answers the number she still can't believe she has in her contacts list.

 

“Ms Potts?”

 

“ _Darcy! I'm glad I got through to you_ -”

 

“Is something wrong? Is Jane hurt?” Her anxiety is legitimate, okay? You don't put that many brilliant scientists in one phallic building without risking them opening the seventh seal or something.

 

On the other end of the line, Pepper chuckles. “ _Jane's fine. I'm not calling because anything's wrong, I'm calling to give you a heads up that someone else is going to be staying at the apartment with you. I wasn't aware that Tony had offered them the use of the apartment while they were down there, but if it's going to make you uncomfortable, I can pull some strings and get them a hotel room-_ ”

 

There is _no way_ Darcy is going to make Pepper Potts expel any more effort than she already has. Jesus Christ.

 

“No, no, that's okay! It's not like I spend tons of time inside the place anyways. We'll coexist, maybe have awkward conversation in the kitchen, before I go out exploring. Don't worry about it.” It sucks, to be honest, she had been enjoying her solo time and she doesn't really want to have to censor herself around the apartment.

 

There's a very pregnant pause. “I'm not sure you'll feel that way when I tell you that you'd be 'coexisting' with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.”

 

Wait. What?

 

Maybe she had made a squeaking noise, because Pepper rushes to reassure her, “ _I know both men personally, Darcy, and I can vouch for them. You don't have to worry about them harassing you- they're both completely respectful_.”

 

Pepper continues talking but Darcy kind of tunes her out. Okay, one: this situation no longer sucks because she has met Steve and Bucky and _hello, salty goodness_! There had been a brief introduction courtesy of Thor (who had obviously told them about the time Darcy took him down with her taser) but she hadn't been able to do more than wave lamely and say 'what's up?' before she made some excuse about checking on something for Jane.

 

Which, she wasn't even working for Jane at that point in time.

 

She had seen both supersoldiers around the Tower from time to time, but all they had ever done was nod at her as they passed in the hallway. Not that Darcy's complaining. When she'd signed up for that internship, never in her wildest dreams did she expect it to lead her to alien gods, England, or Stark Industries/Avengers Tower.

 

But on the other hand, it sucks even more because as excited as she is to be around prime fantasy material, close quarters like this also mean many opportunities for her to make a fool of herself.

 

Do Not Want.

 

“ _Darcy_?”

 

“Yeah?” Realizing Pepper was waiting on her answer, she shakes her head. “Yeah, I can take your word for it. I'm sure we'll all be copacetic in that apartment.”

 

 

 

As much as Darcy would like to act casual about this whole thing, she starts walking faster, wanting to at least change her outfit and put on some makeup before she gets to feel inadequate around the two men she spends a lot of time defending on various social media platforms.

 

(Fox News had obviously thought Captain America would uphold their version of American values, but now every time Steve Rogers opens his mouth to criticize the military-industrial complex, they practically have kittens.)

 

It's all for naught, because the second she rushes through the door, there's fucking Captain America sitting on the couch, looking sheepish, and the fucking Soldier Formerly Known As Winter sitting at the dining table thumbing through her _Bust_ magazine.

 

“Oh. Hey,” She says.

 

 _You are Darcy Lewis_ , she reminds herself. _You have a Master's degree in Political Science from freaking Columbia. You can handle this_.

 

“Hey there, doll,” Bucky drawls, finally glancing up from the magazine with a lazy smile.

 

She's not sure what she expected from the man who spent seventy years in and out of a refrigerator having his brain scrambled on the regular, maybe she expected him to be all scowly and taciturn? If this is what Bucky Barnes was like back in the old days, then Darcy can definitely see why the ladies considered him a panty-dropper. Steve shoots him a look that Darcy manages to intercept before she swings her attention back to Bucky, who shrugs as if to say, ' _what_?'

 

“I'm sorry about this,” Steve says, unfolding himself from the couch in a graceful move. “Ms Potts just let us know there was someone else staying here. If we'd known, we wouldn't have intruded on your vacation.”

 

She waves her free hand in front of her. “Eh, don't worry about it. It's like they say, 'the more the merrier'. Besides, if Stark owns a prime piece of real estate like this in New Orleans, why not share so we can all take advantage of it?”

 

Steve seems to accept this because he nods and, after glancing around the living room as if there were something to look at, he lowers himself back onto the couch. Not wanting to stay there where the awkward silence is, Darcy heads into the tiny kitchen where there is a slight respite that keeps her out of their sight. Shaking her head at herself, she opens the cabinets and starts pulling out plates and napkins.

 

Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she stands in the open doorway. “You guys hungry?”

 

“Oh, you don't have to-” Steve starts.

 

But Bucky interrupts him: “Yes.”

 

“Well, you're in luck, because I scored one of those famous muffulettas from the Central Grocery and it's a lot bigger than I expected so I figure you guys can split the other half. Something to tide you over until you decide what to do for your real lunch. Consider it your welcome to New Orleans.”

 

“Okay.” Steve's easy, if reluctant, acquiescence surprises her. But Darcy nods and heads back into the kitchen to divide the ginormous sandwich into quarters. The last quarter, she'll stick in the fridge for tomorrow or something.

 

“Bon Appetit!” She sashays towards the table where Bucky and now Steve are sat. She can practically see their mouths watering at the sight of the sandwich. That's okay, she knows she's drooling, too. “Oop, forgot the olive mix.” One more trip to the kitchen and back and she's impressing them with her ability to open a jar with one try, without even the FX straining.

 

“So,” she begins to ask while piling more olive mix onto her sandwich. “What brings you boys to the Big Easy? A little R&R?”

 

“Something like that, yes,” Steve says once he's swallowed his first bite. His first bite, Darcy should point out, practically took half the sandwich. He's clearly been on a mission recently or he's been preparing to go incognito for a while, because he's grown out his hair, let a beard come in, and tinted it all darker so he doesn't immediately get recognized. Barnes is still rocking the manbun and scruff and-

 

Has Darcy mentioned how much she has a thing for facial hair? Because she does. Very much. There's a tingling between her thighs that can attest to that.

 

“Basically, Stevie here has been mouthing off too much about politics lately and it was strongly suggested,” Bucky emphasizes those words in a way that tells Darcy Steve had been ordered to. “-that he take a few weeks' leave. Stark suggested we come here,” Bucky explains, leaning back in his seat. His sandwich is nearly all eaten- unlike Steve's more sedate pace, Bucky nearly wolfs his food down.

 

“Oh yeah, I've definitely noticed the uptick in my work lately. Not-” she clarifies when she sees the apologetic frown on Steve's face, “that I'm complaining. Watching you go off always makes me cackle with vicarious glee.”

 

“Well, glad I could be of service.” The boyish grin he gives her then makes those tingles turn into flutters.

 

 

 

 

The next few days pass fairly quick, with the three of them taking care to give each other space. Steve and Bucky go check out the WW2 museum as well as the Civil War one. Darcy spends a few hours at the Aquarium of the Americas. She takes a selfie with an albino alligator and posts it on Instagram.

 

It does get awkward when they run into each other coming in and out the sole bathroom after a shower. Darcy almost starts wearing nothing but a towel when she exits after her shower, but decides that would be way too forward. She'd like to preserve some dignity in case they aren't interested in her like that.

 

The one thing they end up deciding to do together, unsurprisingly, is eat dinner. Darcy shows Bucky and Steve her detailed list of places in town she really wants to try and they gamely leave it up to her where to go. Last night, they'd gone to a little place in Faubourg-Marigny called The Praline Connection, where Darcy had eaten the best meatloaf she'd ever had in her life ( _sorry, Mom_ ).

 

The supersoldiers, though, had both ordered two plates each, which had raised eyebrows among the waiters. That had prompted Darcy to make a comment about how both men must have had sticker shock about the prices of food, especially with the amount they had to eat to keep up with their metabolism. They'd then spent most of the meal having a lively discussion about food economics, which made Darcy even more grateful she lived in the 21st century.

 

It would've just been a friendly meal to her if Bucky hadn't been sitting next to her, thighs brushing against hers and arm resting on the back of her seat. Every time she leaned back, she could've sworn his thumb was brushing against her hair. Then there was Steve, all polite and gentleman-y, pressing his hand against the small of her back before letting her into the apartment building before him.

 

She was beginning to get used to their presence and less shy about being herself. Except the more she's around them, the more she wonders what it'd be like to lick them or have those terrifyingly competent hands on her body. Good thing she'd brought her trusty vibrator, it did make a useful stopgap.

 

There's a sun-dappled afternoon where they wander through the French Quarter after a leisurely lunch at the Napoleon House, which involves two Sazerac cocktails for Darcy, that leads to Bucky tugging her into an impromptu swing dance in front of a band that was playing in the middle of the street. There's something about how giddy she gets afterwards, cheeks flushed and brain still swimming from the alcohol, and the way all three of their bodies just don't seem to stay out of touch for long.

 

She wants to ask both men up front what _this_ is all about, but she finds herself biting her tongue.

 

 

Something stirs her awake before her alarm. Darcy blinks, seeing from the shadows on the wall that the sun's barely just come up, and before she can curl deeper into the bed, she hears a noise.

 

It's coming from the bedroom next to hers and her first thought is that Steve and Bucky were probably just coming back from their morning run and that had been what woke her up. The noise comes again, but louder. And then again. It starts to settle into a rhythm and it takes Darcy's poor, sleep-addled brain too long to realize what she's hearing.

 

The low, shuddering moan that breaks through the relative silence on her side of the wall has her eyes going wide. _That_ was definitely a sex noise. Bucky and Steve are definitely having sex in their room. The knowledge has her holding her breath, straining her hearing for more details even as she feels like such a perv for doing so.

 

She's not surprised that they're fucking, per se. She's aware enough, by courtesy of classified information she's been read in on at work, that both Bucky and Steve are flexible as to the genders of their romantic partners. (She has a whole folder of articles, statistics, and arguments about bisexuality and pansexuality to whip out if either of the men's personal lives become public fodder. But it's kind of news to her that they fuck each other, too.

 

It's not like she can escape without alerting both men and 1) putting a kibosh on their sexytimes then 2) ensuring that she won't be able to look them in the eye for about...gosh... _fifty years_.

 

Her body is flushing with heat and awareness and she just doesn't think she can resist touching herself, so she does. Down the covers go, leaving her in her spaghetti strap nightie that barely hits mid-thigh, a blessing in this climate. A blessing now, too, because it means easy access. She runs her fingertips lightly over her arms and the soft swell of her breasts, scraping her nails over her rapidly hardening nipples.

 

She shivers, and bites her lip as she contemplates the sheer naughtiness of what she wants to do next.

 

Pepper probably has a maid that comes in after the temporary residents have left, so it's not like the pillowcase won't be laundered. Another moan drifts through the wall and Darcy makes up her mind, grabbing the pillow with the right amount of firmness and give, rolling as silently as she can on top of it until it's squeezed between her thighs. The seam along the edges will make this easy and pretty quick, and that's what she wants right now.

 

Darcy tries to imagine the scene next door, tries to imagine the broad, beefy weight of Bucky Barnes balanced on his forearms and knees, those thick thighs spread and his erection hanging heavy and low. She bites back a whimper and starts sliding along the seam of the pillow, dragging it over her clit until the abstract emptiness of her desire becomes something sharp and insistent. She then tries to imagine the sculpted planes of Steve Roger's chest, those beautiful fingers gripping Bucky's hips as he drives himself into Bucky over and over.

 

Darcy can't even rock as hard as she'd like, or breath as deeply as she'd like, because the bed would probably make noise and give her away. But just the effort of forcing herself to stay quiet is amping her up. She's practically shaking from how close she is to coming already. The rhythmic noises, as well as two sets of voices reach a quiet crescendo and Darcy gasps then, shuddering as one strap of her nightgown slips off her shoulder, the material sliding ever so softly over her nipple and she squeezes the pillow harder between her legs, grinding her wet vulva into it as her climax spills over into shallow ripples of pleasure.

 

She gulps in air, willing herself to stay in control as she slowly stops humping the pillow. Her muscles are shaking from the effort, and she knows that she could have gone for another orgasm or two, but all this masturbation session has done is simultaneously act like a small pressure valve and also increase her desire to be thoroughly fucked by her erstwhile roommates. Those orgasms would really satisfy her, she thinks.

 

They're gone by the time she stumbles out of her room to take a shower, thank Thor. She may feel like a filthy perv, but she's more than capable of pretending it never happened. Given a few hours to move on. So she eats a quick breakfast of fruit and yogurt, tosses her water bottle into her bag, and pulls on a pretty purple maxidress that does a heroic job of holding the girls up without a bra on underneath, and heads out to do some exploring.

 

 

 

 

 

By 2:30, however, it becomes clear that the dress was a mistake. Or at least, wearing it without some kind of shorts underneath was a mistake. Between the humidity and all the walking she's doing, her thighs are chafing something fierce. Darcy knows she's put on some weight in the past few months, not having kept up with workouts and being very lazy with meals. Most of her attention had been divided between her thesis and work, so time and energy had been at a premium. But _ouch_ , even the elastic leg-holes of her underwear are digging into the crease between her legs.

 

She manages to make it back to the apartment, calling out for the men: “Steve? Bucky?? Anyone home?” There's no answer, just the echo of her voice, so she goes ahead and peels her panties down off her legs, tossing them onto the wooden table, and opening the windows to let in the breeze. They keep the place only moderately conditioned, so she needs the windows open if she's going to cool herself down.

 

Hopping up onto the table, facing the open window, she tugs the long skirt up around the top of her thighs, spreads them, and then lies back with a sigh of relief. She closes her eyes and lets herself drift a little, recalling Steve's text earlier that had mentioned they'd be in the Arts District. Knowing Steve's interest in art, Darcy was hoping this meant they'd be gone for hours yet.

 

At some point, she hears the distant boom of thunder and drowsily remembers the dark grey clouds she'd seen as she made her way home. The weather forecast had predicted the possibility of thunderstorms that afternoon, so she pays the increasingly loud storm no mind. The roar of heavy rain that follows some minutes later is pleasant to her ears, as is the smell of water tinged with the tropical sourness that was so characteristic of New Orleans.

 

Then, over the percussion of rain: the scrape of metal along wood, right next to her head.

 

Darcy jerks awake, her eyes opening to see Bucky standing next to the dining room table, staring down at her with unreadable eyes. She can tell his pupils are blown, the bright blue of his irises are barely visible in the dimness of the room.

 

“Whatcha doing there, doll?” The thicker Brooklyn accent is coming out again, and Bucky's metal fingers tangle in the strands of her hair spread across the table. The faint pinpricks on her scalp send a small shiver down her spine. Darcy knows without a bra, he can see her nipples poking through the material of her dress.

 

His eyes dart down to her chest, then further down, before snapping back up to her face. She doesn't even think before answering honestly:

 

“I'm cooling myself off. It was so humid my thighs were chafing. Got kinda painful by the time I made it back. I thought you guys would be gone until dinner.”

 

She's aware that her skirt is up around her thighs. She's aware that her underwear is sitting inches above her head, perfectly visible to Bucky. But she has too much pride right now to just scramble up and cover herself. So Darcy girds her proverbial loins and stares right back at Bucky. She doesn't have a clue where Steve is.

 

“There was a storm coming in,we thought we'd better head back before it broke.”

 

Well, that makes sense. Craning her neck so she could look at the room beyond the table, Darcy spots Steve leaning against the wall next to the kitchen, hands in his jean pockets and a soft look on his face as he watches her. “Hey, Steve.”

 

It's like he remembers himself and he noticeably tenses, his words guarded. “Hey, Darce. If you want us to leave you alone right now, we will. Just say the word.”

 

“Alright, but I think we'd have a lot more fun if you both stayed,” she says cheekily.

 

That gets her a huff of laughter from him and a bemused shake of his head. “Alright then.”

 

The odd sense of calm she'd had is melting away into nervous anticipation. She's not reading this wrong, she's not. This _is_ really going where she thinks it's going. She turns her head back in time to see Bucky moving around the table to where her knees are curved over the edge.

 

“Looks like you need a little bit o' help there,” he murmurs, indicating the space between her thighs. Darcy tries and fails to bite her tongue.

 

“No shit, Sherlock.” She knows he gets the reference and he just lets out a little ' _ooh_ ', lightly mocking her. She shoves her impatience down and tells him what she knows he's waiting for. “That's me telling you 'yes', beeteedubs.”

 

“Good to know.”

 

There's the scrape of a chair being dragged closer to the table as Bucky sits down before her, thumbs lightly rubbing circles into the insides of her knees. All Darcy can do is stare up at the ceiling, knowing that she's now completely exposed to him and...fuck, he can probably see her cunt twitching under his attention.

 

His hands, flesh and metal, slide higher and she exhales, trembling. The metal is actually running cooler than normal human body temperature and when it rests against her inner thigh, right over the reddened welt, she jerks then relaxes from the relief it gives her.

 

“Better?”

 

Darcy sighs, “Yes, thank you.” Her hands, which had been resting on her stomach, fidget; she feels like she needs something else for them to be doing.

 

Bucky says nothing further, but he gradually applies pressure against her inner thighs, forcing her to widen them so his head can fit in. His shoulders bump against her bottom, arms curling up and over her legs, flesh fingers spreading her inner lips until his breath is hot on the wetness there. Darcy reaches down and clutches at Bucky's forearms to anchor herself, abdomen clenching.

 

He meets her eyes just as the broad base of his tongue makes its first, slow pass over her, the tip teasing her already desperate clit out from hiding. Then again. Again. Again...

 

Darcy rapidly realizes she is not going to be able to control herself, to police her reactions, because she's already jerking against his mouth wantonly, moaning softly. She can...she can feel the stubble that frames his lips against her skin and that just magnifies everything. The waves of sensation are so intense she can't help closing her legs around his head despite her efforts to the contrary.

 

Bucky doesn't seem to be complaining-if anything, he's having plenty of fun pulling back just enough to tease her with the featherlight tip of his tongue, flicking it over her clit rapidly before returning to broad swipes. She opens her eyes again, staring straight up at the ceiling, feeling the pleasure start to build up to a crescendo she's almost scared to fall over.

 

In theory, she's all for guys going down on her. In practice, however, most had either not been that good at it, or she'd cut things short for the sake of moving onto a different position. This...Bucky's mouth is so good on her, no matter how she bucks her pelvis, he's right there with her, not letting her escape.

 

Steve's there, then, standing over her, studying her like she was a work of art. And Darcy feels like she is. She can deal with having gained some weight, it's just the way her clothes have become more ill-fitting that makes her feel self-conscious sometimes. She's doing a pretty good job of squashing that tiny insecure voice that wants to hide the pouch of her belly and the dimpling in her ass. Steve and Bucky help, though.

 

She wants Steve's hands on her, now. “Steve,” she murmurs, and that's all she has to say before he's reaching underneath her head to tug hard on the knot holding her halter-top up. The straps pop loose ad when he drags the material down, her breasts spill out, nipples tingling in the cooled air.

 

Bucky's lips close over the hood of her clit and he applies just enough suction to have her arching her back off the table. His arms keep her bottom weighed down. Then he moves his mouth away, leaving Darcy to groan with frustration even as Steve seeks to assuage it by reaching down to cup first one breast, then the other, lightly massaging them.

 

He bends low enough to meet her lips in a kiss, hovering just far enough away that she can't increase the pressure, instead let him nip and tease her mouth. She feels, rather than sees, Bucky rest his flesh thumb against her clit and two metal fingers lightly stroke her labia, asking permission.

 

“God, yes,” Darcy pants in between breaths and kisses, clutching at Steve's shoulders, hovering on the edge of what is definitely gonna be an amazing orgasm.

 

The first finger that slides up into her cunt is cool and hard, though shes so wet from arousal and Bucky's earlier ministrations that she barely has to wriggle to get it fully seated. He pulls it back until it's nearly out of her body but before she can miss it, he's sliding two back in. That takes more adjustment, but her thighs, previously tensed and shaking with need, relax at the oddly satisfying sense of finally being filled.

 

She looks down at Bucky then, at the way he's just sitting there at the table as if they're sharing a meal, taking her apart as if it's no more effort to him than breathing. He's watching every reaction between her spread thighs as he thrusts his fingers in and out, twisting them, and with that one finger over her clit, he starts rubbing steadily. The slow burn of pleasure nearly takes her breath away and Darcy lowers her head back to the table with a thunk, following it back up to the ledge.

 

Steve's right there with her, tugging just hard enough on her nipple to make her lose her ability to bite back her moans. “Good, doll. Just let us get you to where you need to go.” His voice is rough and gravelly next to her ear, the heat of his breath teasing the whorl of her ear.

 

Darcy closes her eyes and focuses on the whirlwind of sensation. Bucky replaces his fingers with his mouth on her clit, flitting his tongue rapidly over it at the same time Steve runs the edge of his teeth along the skin where her neck meets her shoulders. The tension tightens until it's near painful, then snaps and Darcy is powerless to do more than cry out and let the contractions ripple through her body.

 

She lets go of one of Steve's biceps long enough to grip Bucky's hair, pulling him closer, so she can grind against his mouth. To his credit, Bucky just continues to tongue her through it, letting her clench around his fingers until she is spent.

 

 

“Wow,” she gasps. “Wow, wow, wow. Now that's a great way to spend a rainy afternoon.” Darcy's thighs can't seem to stop trembling as she pushes herself up into a sitting position. She doesn't miss the way Bucky's attention falls down to her exposed breasts. Both men are sporting pretty impressive hard-ons that press against the material of their jeans. And Darcy does look.

 

Maybe it's the heady cocktail of post-orgasmic hormones swimming through her bloodstream, but Darcy grins at Steve, then Bucky. “So, bed now?” She asks them breathlessly.

 

Bucky shoots her a cocky grin. “Now, darlin' that's got to be the best idea you've had since we've been here.” Steve is the one to scoop her up, encouraging her with a hand on her thigh to wrap her legs around his waist, and begins to walk the both of them towards his bedroom, which isn't closest, but she bets it's because they know they have condoms in there. So does she, but they don't know that.

 

With her breasts smushed against his chest, Darcy's sight is filled up with his face, and she studies at leisure the bow-shaped pout of his mouth, the slope of his nose, and the way his eyebrows are slanted with determination. His eyes, though, betray the depths of his need. Until now, she hadn't noticed how long and pretty his eyelashes were.

 

Bucky's close behind, already stripping his clothes off. Steve lowers her gently onto her bed and, as she starts to crawl backwards, he hooks two fingers into the material of her dress at her waist and tugs it down and off her body. Now completely naked, Darcy lets her eyes rove over both men and nearly shivers at what she sees.

 

They're both bulky, with barely any spare fat on their bodies and the strength she can see in the way they both move tell her that she's in for a downright delicious fucking.

 

“Well, soldiers, are you just going to stand there and watch or are you going to come over here and help a gal out?” She drawls, pointing her painted toenails playfully at them.

 

She sees the smirk on Steve's lips. “You got this, Buck?” He asks, reaching for the button of his jeans. Bucky nods, not taking his eyes off Darcy.

 

“You know it.”

 

And then she's got two hundred pounds of man crawling over her, settling his body half over hers, cupping her jaw and pulling her into an exhilarating kiss. Darcy is all the more glad she's a chick and therefore capable of multiple orgasms because boy howdy, full frontal making out is starting to make her blood thrum again.

 

She bites down lightly on Bucky's lower lip and is rewarded with a soft grunt and the tightening of his right hand on her hip. With an insistent shove, she gets him to roll over onto his back so she can straddle his waist. Glancing backwards, she notes that Steve is down to his boxer briefs (okay she's totally lost that bet with Marcia down in Accounting). With a wink, she tells him, “don't be too long, or you'll miss all the fun!”

 

Underneath her, Bucky snorts. “Was that a thinly veiled implication that I'm a quick draw?”

 

Darcy shrugs with mock innocence. “Well, I guess you're just going to have to prove me wrong.”

 

“Yeah,” he's nodding, with a downright devious look in his eyes. “Yeah I'm gonna.” Then he makes a spinning motion with his finger. “Turn around darlin'.”

 

Darcy scrunches her face up, she's not sure where he's going with this. “What, like reverse cowgirl?”

 

“Reverse what? Nah, I just want you to turn around.” Darcy gamely swings her leg up and off so she can straddle Bucky the other way. He groans and curls his fingers around her hips again. “Now there's a sight I like to see,” he tells her, referencing her ass.

 

 _Good_ , because half the reason Darcy suffers in the gym is to keep her ass looking amazing. Lewis women have an unfortunate tendency to gain fat there first. Straddling Bucky this way allows Darcy to do two things: see that Steve is now completely naked and _wow_ , that's a truly impressive erection he has there. He's got a condom packet open, which reminds her of the second thing: Bucky's own, equally impressive erection is right there in front of her, and she can reach it.

 

Darcy closes her hand around it, feeling the heat and flex of it, and gives it an experimental pump. The skin slides in her hand, over the hardness underneath. She feels, rather than hears the sharp intake of breath from the man beneath her. Steve steps up, bending down to press a soft, chaste kiss against her lips before he joins her hand with one of his, giving Bucky's cock a solid pump. Then he's rolling the condom on and making sure it's secure near the base.

 

“C'mon, Darcy. Let's get you settled.”

 

Darcy can only raise her eyebrows as Steve encourages her to lie back on Bucky and the latter is right there supporting her descent. She starts to figure it out around the time Bucky raises his knees, bending them and forcing her legs to fall open on either side of his.

 

She trembles in anticipation, forcing herself to relax. “It's been a while, fyi,” she mutters, feeling Bucky's cock nudge against her folds. Steve's right there, kneeling on the bed next to them, helping to position Bucky against her entrance.

 

“'Salright, just tell us what you need,” Bucky tells her as he slowly thrusts upwards into her. With Steve helping, he's able to maintain shallow thrusts without sliding completely out of her. Darcy bites her lip at the stretch and lets out a small moan when Steve uses the thumb of his other hand to gently rub at her clit just above the hood.

 

Deeper Bucky thrusts until he's finally able to seat himself fully inside her. He hesitates for a moment, and she can feel the vibration of tension in his body as he remains as still as possible. He does reach up to brush her hair away from his face, leaving nothing between his lips and her ear. Darcy needs something to hold onto so she curls her arms behind her head, behind his, too.

 

“Okay, I'm good,” she tells him.

 

Bucky isn't slow this time. He's digging his heels into the mattress for leverage as he fucks up into her, palms cupping her breasts. Darcy doesn't have enough strength to close her legs against the delicious pressure that's beginning to build up inside her. Steve's right there with her, slowly fisting his own cock as he continues to rub at her clit. The sight is downright pornographic.

 

Steve starts to press harder when Bucky's thrusts grow shorter and he's squeezing her tighter, groaning in a way that tells Darcy he's close. She's close again, too, and she stops trying to find a place for her feet to rest, raising them into the air and engaging her abdominal muscles to bear down upon Bucky's cock.

 

That does the trick for her, and she's coming hard around him, the fluttering of her inner muscles setting him off. It's utterly erotic to hear the soft, vulnerable groans Bucky is making next to her ear as he snaps his hips against her bottom. She thinks she hears Steve mutter a rough “ _Jesus_ ” as he keeps his thumb moving. Eventually, she's becoming too sensitive, so Darcy lets go of Bucky's hair and pushes against Steve's hand.

 

“Okay, okay,” she gasps, begging for respite.

 

Darcy's limbs feel like noodles as she's helped up off Bucky and she sits there, combing her fingers through her hair because everything just feels so much nicer right now. It's like you don't even realize how tense you are or how sex-deprived you are until you have a great fuck. Now she's loose and relaxed and she watches in a haze as Bucky lies there, breathing deeply and brushing his loose hair away from his forehead, cock softening against his hip.

 

He only gives himself a moment to recover before he's ripping the condom off and tossing it over the side. Then he's kneeling before her and pressing a hard kiss to her lips. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

 

She doesn't know what you say to a person after you've both come and they thank you. “You're welcome? Also, thanks?” Bucky lets out a little huff of laughter against her lips and brushes a knuckle along the slope of her breast, flicking her nipple in the process, which makes her actually feel a twinge in between her thighs.

 

“Fuck,” Darcy swears.

 

“You musta really been hard up for it if you're this hungry,” Bucky points out with an impressed whistle. “Steve an' I could occupy ourselves just fine right now, but since you're new an' all, we're just gonna have to see about satisfying you completely.”

 

She meets Steve's eyes then, takes in the way he's kneeling with his weight on the heels of his feet, thighs wide and body on display, and thinks: _oh yeah, I could definitely go again_. He flushes under her perusal but doesn't so much as blink or look away.

 

“So what, Captain, you always wait for your men to be taken care of before you get yours, is that it?” The guilty expression on Steve's face cinches it for her.

 

“I-” He begins to explain, but once again, he's cut off.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Bucky enunciates, rolling his eyes as if this is the most annoying fact in the world. 

 

“So, tell me, Steve, what do _you_ want?”

 

His Adam's apple shifts as he swallows, not saying anything outright. But Darcy sees the way his eyes flicker over to the wall and just the thought is enough to make her go weak. Well, even weaker than she already is.

 

“You want to...to fuck me against the wall?” She asks softly, watching his forehead twitch. In a game of poker, that would be a tell, and before he can reassure her that they don't need to do that, she's crawling closer until she can press against his side and capture his lips in a kiss that's both sweet and rife with promise.

 

“That sounds really good. I'm going to need it hard and intense so I can come again.” The dirty talking seems to be doing the trick because those pretty eyelashes of Steve's are fluttering half closed and he's breathing more heavily through his mouth. He curls his arm around her waist, holding her close as he kisses her again, tongue parting the seam of her lips to taste her and give a wicked preview of what could come next.

 

When Bucky flips over onto his side and takes Steve into his mouth, head bobbing up and down as he gets Steve even harder and ready, that's nearly enough to make Darcy come right then and there. She even reaches down and starts stroking over already sensitized flesh as she watches the two men work together in a way that shows how deeply familiar they are.

 

Bucky pulls away with a wet, noisy pop and reaches for a condom, tearing the packet open with his teeth and rolling it over Steve's erection before slapping his flank and declaring him “fit for duty.”

 

“You ready?” Steve asks her, and she barely has to nod before she's being lifted into his arms and carried over to the nearest wall. The storm, which had not abated in all this time, sends another rumble of thunder rattling through the building, which she feels against her back soon as she's pressed against it.

 

Her legs are looped over Steve's forearms, opening her up so wide Darcy shudders. It can be scary to be vulnerable like this, especially when you haven't exactly had the best experience with how rough and uncaring men can sometimes be about whether you're actually enjoying things. She hasn't even known Steve or Bucky for long, but any lingering trepidation fades when Steve effortlessly holds her up with one arm and carefully lines his cock up with her waiting cunt.

 

“Keep talkin' to me,” he asks her lowly, the timbre of his voice sending shivers down her spine and making her nipples tingle as they pebble and are abraded by the coarse hairs on his chest. She's holding tight to his shoulders and realizing she really needn't not- her weight is nothing to him.

 

Bucky is there, beyond Steve's shoulder, unabashedly naked as he lounges on the bed with his head held up by his interlocked fingers. There's a sense of wonderment in his expression as he watches them, lips parted.

 

The head of Steve's cock nudges in between her inner lips and his breath is hot on her cheek as he slowly presses in. Her previous orgasms mean she's already fluttering around the intrusion and to her surprise, Steve is apparently very mouthy when he has sex.

 

“God, you feel so good. So good, Darce.”

 

It doesn't hurt. To the contrary, she wants more. “Steve?”

 

“Hm?”

 

She lets go of his shoulders, holds his face in her hands so he knows to look her in the eye and see how absolutely serious she is. “I really, really need you to fuck me right now. And hard, please?” She asks plainly.

 

There it is again, that almost grim determination where Steve furrows his brows and presses his lips together as if he's preparing for battle. Maybe he is. But all train of thought flies out of her head when he lets her slide a few inches lower on the wall, meaning that when he snaps his hips into her, he buries himself to the hilt.

 

Darcy yelps, surprised how intense it feels to be splintered open like this. She can't do much more than tense her pelvic muscles and work herself against him as he proceeds to fuck her in earnest.

 

There's a faint sheen of sweat on their skin, making things sticky in a way that's deliciously erotic. The single lamp in the corner flickers when another round of thunder rattles the house. Darcy feels like they're making plenty of thunder of their own as Steve rocks against her, grinding the base of his cock against her clit.

 

“Yes, yes,” she chants, one hand reaching up in search of some purchase but finding none.

 

There's nothing to do but be borne away in the maelstrom as she clamps down tighter and tighter around him and Steve starts to lose his composure and his control. Watching him close his eyes, Darcy could see the moment when he felt nirvana within reach.

 

His thrusts begin to stutter and that's when he has enough presence of mind to open his eyes, reach down with one hand and roughly circle her clit with his thumb. Darcy yelps and even though she tries to arch her back, there's nowhere to go because she's quite literally between a rock and a hard place. Steve groans deeply and pumps upward into her once, twice, then thrice before holding himself up to the hilt and shaking from the force of his own orgasm.

 

Darcy just mewls as she contracts and releases around him, so hard it's bordering on pain. She milks him while her nails dig into his shoulders and then, finally, everything feels utterly numb and sated.

 

Steve holds her there, panting into the crook of her neck. Her hair's so wet with sweat it's clinging to the back of her neck and she could just stay there for a hundred years but eventually Steve grabs ahold of her bottom, sliding down and out of her even as she whimpers from the loss.

 

“Shh,” he whispers. “I've got you.”

 

He doesn't lower her down onto her feet, and thank Thor, because Darcy's pretty sure if he tried, her legs would give out on her. Instead, he carries her over to the bed and hands her off to Bucky, who settles her on the mattress. She's distantly aware of the covers being pulled out from under her and the air is suddenly cool on her body.

 

It's tender, the way they're touching her now, kissing her. Steve's disposed of the condom and crawled onto the bed on her other side. They kiss, and there's a world of meaning in the way they rest their foreheads against one other before sandwiching her with their bodies.

 

This...isn't a promise of forever or anything. The thought unfurls at the back of her mind, keeping her from falling asleep right away as Steve pulls the covers loosely up over their waists. Darcy doesn't have the faintest clue what this means in the grand scheme of things. Is this an one-time thing? A vacation-time thing? Would they even want to continue this back in New York? She doesn't know.

 

And, she realizes in a flash of insight, Steve and Bucky probably don't know the answer to that question either. And that's alright. None of this is what she'd expected out of her life, she can go with the flow on this one, too. It's enough to lie there between Steve and Bucky, to have Bucky's metal arm around her waist and his steady breath rippling through the curtain of her hair, to have Steve's arm curled over her own, over Bucky's. Maybe to make certain he's still there even as they sleep.

 

And for the first time in months, Darcy feels like she doesn't have to worry about what she'll do tomorrow.

 

She can just sleep.

 

 (She so owes Pepper a gift basket)


End file.
